[Floor B85: Red Convergence]
Rule: One Group May Leave.
Participants: All Active Player Clusters from Floor 100 to B85.
The elevator doors opened.
And war screamed in.
Flames lit the sky above the ruined cityscape. Tower fragments floated midair, suspended like glass caught in time. Gunfire. Sword clashes. Screams.
Lucien stepped into chaos.
Naia and Calen flanked him, eyes wide.
"What is this—?" Calen began, but the Tower answered first:
[BATTLEFIELD FLOOR: RED CONVERGENCE.]
Survivors: 126.
Escape Slots: 3.
"Only one group clears this floor," Naia whispered. "The rest die here."
All around them, players battled in makeshift squads—each cluster clearly from different branches of the Tower. Different gear. Different rules. Some moved with glowing systems projected before them, others chanted spells in alien tongues. One woman had no weapons—just thousands of floating eyes.
Lucien scanned the terrain.
A burning cathedral in the center.
Above it: a crimson obelisk pulsing with countdown numbers.
[00:59:56] – END OF FLOOR CYCLE.]
"It's a survival timer," Lucien said. "Obelisk controls extraction. It only opens for one group."
"Then we kill everyone else," Calen said grimly.
Lucien shook his head.
"No. We let them kill each other first. Then we play the endgame."
Strategy Phase: The Waiting Lie
They took shelter inside a ruined transit hub. Lucien used his System Sight to monitor the flow of violence.
Each group fell into patterns:
The Iron Siblings: armored brutes with shared health pools.
The Whisper Choir: fought by rewriting reality with spoken paradoxes.
The Chrono Loopers: kept rewinding five seconds before death.
The Ashborn: already dead, fighting only to delay true deletion.
Naia whispered, "They're not just enemies. They're nightmares. Every group here is a broken miracle."
Lucien smirked. "Perfect."
He opened a System Thread.
[Deploying Mislead Protocol.]
He sent false coordinates to the Iron Siblings and Whisper Choir.
Claimed the Chrono Loopers had hacked the Obelisk.
Within minutes, chaos reignited.
Phase Two: Thinning the Field
By the 30-minute mark, only five groups remained:
Lucien's Team
Ashborn Remnants
A Reclaimer Squad – cybernetic, hive-linked.
A Fracture Cult – each member believed they were the only real person.
Player 7's Team – unseen, but announced.
[Warning: Player 7's interference detected.]
A voice echoed:
"Hello again, liars. Miss me?"
The sky tore.
A mirror fell.
And a fourth version of Lucien walked out—casual, smirking, backlit by red light.
"I'm the version that didn't pretend to be good. I burned my team on Floor 3. Guess who lived longer?"
Lucien stepped forward.
"You're not me. You're a shortcut."
"I'm your graduation."
Phase Three: Collapse
As time ticked to final ten minutes, all remaining groups converged on the cathedral.
System notice:
[Final Trial: One team must activate the Obelisk. Only three may exit. The rest will be deleted.]
Player 7's Lucien fired first.
He didn't miss.
Calen shielded with magic—barely alive.
Naia dove and killed two of the Reclaimer squad.
The Fracture Cult… turned on each other.
Lucien ran for the Obelisk.
His other self mirrored him.
"Only one lie survives," the false-Lucien whispered.
"Then let mine be better," Lucien growled—and stabbed the mirror.
They both bled.
Only one knelt.
Only one laughed.
Lucien reached the obelisk.
Activated it.
[Extraction Slot Claimed.]
[Select two additional survivors.]
He chose Naia.
Then paused.
Looked at Calen.
And chose him too.
[Floor Cleared.]
[Red Convergence Ends. Survivor Count: 3.]
The rest screamed as the Tower folded the world inward.
Lights blinked.
Silence returned.
They stepped onto the next elevator.
Silent.
Tired.
Alive.
Lucien wiped the blood from his hands.
"If this is what survival means… remind me not to win."
The doors shut.